cleanclay's Xanga

maybe just one more...

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 18:12:17 GMT

One, two, three pills I dump carefully into my palm. Not long now and I'll be lying in the chair getting my braces tightened and tweaked for the millionth time.
The swelling of my finger, a nasty hit from a paintball, has gone down, though it's been replaced by tenderness and an ugly purple color.
The back door comes open with a bang and a wail erupts. With a glance over my shoulder at the girl in strange clothes, tears in her eyes, and a minuscule cut on her bare foot I carefully dump one more pill into my hand and gulp them down.

~kaPo

Get What You Want...

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 16:53:56 GMT

...Eat what you get. I learned this phrased many years ago from Hannah and Emilie's dad.

So today, there I am, standing in the kitchen staring off into the distance with my legs crossed in a Hannah-esque pose of comfort. A smile twists my lips as I watch the little pinwheel outside spin as if out of control under the wind's strong hand. And I quietly eat my little cup of sliced peaches.

In nearly complete day dreaming mode, something catches my eye. I turn away from the window just slightly and spy a coal black fluffy mustache and long graying brows under which the deep brown eyes were barely visible as they stared up at my little cup with longing.

An eyebrow raised and the smile on my lips widens as I turned to face this pleading form who watches my little cup of peaches with the utmost care as I look from them to him and back again.

"You sure you want a peach?" I inquire with a giggle. In response, he glances at me briefly, readjusts his seating and continued to stare calmly at my little cup of peaches.

"You're sure?" Again he simply watches the little cup of peaches. I hold out a hand to him and say calmly, "Ask for them." Quickly, and with a good lack of grace, I receive both his fumbling excited paws in my hand as he quickly looses balance and tumbles backwards to the floor.

I can't help but chuckle heartily at that. He recovers quickly and returns to stare at my little cup of peaches. With a smile I pluck one from the cup and hand it down to him.

He smells it; licks it; and eats it in a quick gulp. Before I can put another spoonful in my own mouth he is already waiting for another chuck.
Again I calmly require that he ask first and again, though with a good deal more grace, I receive both coal black paws. Again, I hand him a chuck and again it is gone before I know it.

My dog likes peaches, and apparently grapes because he's dined on those as well. But hey, I'm not complaining. Eat what you get, right?

~kaPo

Curious

Wed, 05 Mar 2008 22:43:07 GMT

Emilie and I have been talking recently and we're both completely bewildered.

The more I listen to secular music the more I hear the crying out of their souls for Christ. And it's devastatingly frustrating!

There's a Linkin Park song that could easily be mistaken for Christian, if fact, they play it on Christian stations sometimes, I've heard it done. Anyway, the song is just this guy pouring out his intense desire to be forgiven of all the things he's done\doing.

"Let mercy come and wash away what I've done."

Hello! Is that not the making of a worship song or something?!

This guy talks about erasing what he's done and basically doing a 180 with his life. Everything about this song is a lost soul screaming for Christ.

AND YET THEY WON'T LISTEN!

It's driving me MAD! We (Christians) have managed to get such a bad rep. here in America that as soon as a someone knows what we believe they completely turn off to us. It's ripping me up. I want SO BADLY to be able to go to this guy and hold out my hands and say, "Look, I know what you need. What you want. You don't know it but I've heard how much you long for this and I want to help."

And yet...I don't even know if that would have any effect except to get me thrown out on my face on the sidewalk.

I forgot my other example, so I'll use this one instead:

There's a guy, Glen Phillips, who writes amazing songs. He's got a crappy life but it doesn't stop him from being a powerful songwriter. He does one song that's called "Cleareyed" and, honestly, I don't have a clue what the heck it could possibly be about if it's not about God. But he's not a Christian.

"Blind me with love. Make me blind because I've seen to much of this life and now I only see you."

I'm so frustrated with this.

Another song he wrote goes on about getting back into the groove of Christ, or that's what is seems like.

"I’m not sure what it takes, I’m fuzzy on the rules
And everything’s so dark, everything but you.
I’ve forgotten how to pray, forgotten what was true
And everything feels bought, everything but you."

Another line says something about all the entertainment and stimulation of the world's just leaving him empty and longing.

And, unfortunately, the lyrics I pulled up claim that he uses some nasty language in this song but, trust me, I've heard him preform it and I've got the CD, he doesn't say any bad stuff in this song. So, if you look up the song...those aren't the right lyrics.

"You terrify me. You are everything.
I'm proud to be your fool, everything's a crutch, everything but you."

AND THEN he does a song called "Thank You" and the opening line is, "You made this world, thank you." Chorus: "Your love is everywhere."

AND HE STILL WILL NOT say he's a Christian.

I am so confused.

I guess what I'm trying to ask is this: Why can they (secular artists) g e t stuff that most Christian artists can't? Why can they get the emotion and passion underneath their songs that aren't even written with a knowledge of what they r e a l l y mean, when a majority of our singer\songwriters just can't?

I think there are a couple good Christian bands but, in general, I don't like Christian music because it all starts sounding the same. And, a great deal of the time, just focuses on how crappy and sinful we are, which, of course, is true but we don't need to dwell on it and write song after song after song just tearing ourselves down. I feel like the songs are loosing track of what exactly the point is. They talk about how we're so bad and He's so good and how could He love crap like me? Yeah, okay, we know. Now, let's stop focusing on how much we suck and just write some songs that really truly praise HIM and talk about HIM not us, unless we're standing in complete and total awe of HIM.

Okay, I think that's all I have...

Oh, on a side note, the famine's this weekend and I'd like a lot of prayer for that--I've got some tough stuff my family and I've got to hammer out with God, you know, get an idea of where He's leading us as of the next several years of our lives.

~kaPo

And now--a quote

Tue, 19 Feb 2008 20:08:15 GMT

Once in a while you find yourself in an odd situation. You get into it by degrees and in the most natural way but, when you're right in the midst of it, you are suddenly astonished and ask yourself how in the world it all came about.

-Thor Heyerdahl, Kon-Tiki

~kaPo

at last!

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 06:54:52 GMT

So, it's finally time for an update on the life of Kapo!

Don't get too excited.

Life's been really good lately. Unlike a couple of months ago, when I think I was going through a bit of a depression, which isn't all that unusual for me. Anyways, I feel--happy again. I've been reading my bible a lot, I think that has a lot to do with it and hardly a day goes by that I don't belly laugh at least once a day.

I am blessed.

God is so good to me and my family! I feel like I get to relearn just how good He is every single day.
And I love it.
I've gotten really into taking pictures since I bought a camera in January and so have been given many, many opportunities to see the beauty of God in the strangest of places (I like to think that I can sometimes capture a glimpse of that splendor in my little camera to remind me later).

I've started drawing too. I've finally uncovered at least a bit of the key to drawing people (meaning that they don't look like alien blobs with eyes anymore and only kinda almost look like humans) and I've been discovering faces in my head that I couldn't see before except with the words I'd used to describe them in my stories. That makes it especially grand when I hand over a finished product to Sabe (who has read most, if not all, of my stories and knows my characters well) and she excitedly exclaims their name, without it being written or any hint from my mouth about who it might be.

I guess it's the little things, huh?

We went to San Diego last week, which was fabulous! We ate at so much excellent food and went to so many beautiful places! Ah! It was fantastic!
But me and California...I don't think we're ever meant to be. I mean, it's beautiful and has wonderful weather and great cars--it would just never be a comfortable fit. Still, I'm glad I got to visit and, after a little while, I'll be anxiously awaiting my next set of adventures in that "paradise" as Sam calls it.

Anyway, so, here I am. Sitting in the Rhino's basement praying and waiting for the house to rouse and the rest of our little band of warriors to show. It's going to be a long night but God's going to be glorified tonight, no matter what.

God will move tonight. I don't know how and I don't know the outcome, but He will move and He will be glorified.

God, give me words--cause I'm at a bit of a loss. Move in me to speak for You. Let me be open to Your Spirit and use me tonight to strengthen my brothers and sisters.

All praise to You, Father.

Amen.

To You Two

Fri, 04 Jan 2008 20:53:41 GMT

I have this friend.

The kind of friend that you've known for so long that you start picking up each other's habits without really noticing. Then someone points out how

"you two do so many things just alike"
and you smile at one another,
nod,
and agree,
"Yeah, I guess we do."

She now carries her cell phone in her back right pocket

and I've started wearing t-shirts and ball caps.

And it's refreshing.

She's the kind of friend that will be mad at me
and invite me to come over
all in the same sentence.

We bicker,
a lot,
but it's never so bad that we can't work it out.
We're not afraid to tell each other the painful truth and when we're the one receiving it we take it
without too much of a fuss.

After all, what's more important:
the Friendship
or
the Argument?

So far we've always chosen the former.

It's hard,
sometimes.
Having a friend who's so close
and knows you so well
that you can't just get away with saying,
"I'm fine."

They see through it,
you know it,
they know it.

So you talk about it,
which can be frustrating.
But it's good.

Most people would probably call us boring because we're content to sit and chat or grab the controllers and take on some video games.

But that's just us.

We enjoy being friends in our own way
and if that means smashing one another into walls while racing down a crowded street in Berlin in our
"yellow hornet" and "black knight" cars, then so be it.
(Burnout's our favorite game, so far)

Sure, we're not entirely original.
Quite a few of our conversations have led back to just quoting movies and our favorite web series.
But, hey, that's us.

We go through low points, just like everyone else.

Usually one of us manages to keep on our feet and help the other out of whatever funk they're in,
but sometimes
we both fall.

Getting up is hard.

The ground's sometimes slick,
we're using each other to try and get up,
which doesn't always work since we're both down,
plus satan is pretty dang scared of us so he's hitting us with whatever he's got.

Pain.
Depression.
Frustration.

We're a lot alike in more than just some ways. The more I'm with her the more I see a lot of my own characteristics that I thought were strictly my things.

But that's okay and good,

because I'm learning how to deal with myself by dealing with her.

It sounds odd, but trust me that's what's happening.

She's a great friend.
Joyous and full of life,

despite what satan does to keep her down.

I'm proud of her for how strong she is. Life's been tough for her for a while,
but she's making it through.

God's with her and she knows it.

Love you! :)

I have this friend.

Maybe we're not as close as we'd like to be,

but that's okay right now.

She's very dear to me,

though I don't see her nearly as much as I'd like to.

She's always smiling,
unless she's sleeping;).
She's my dear friend.

She works a lot,
that's why it's tough for us to get together,
but we manage to slip in some time every now and again.

And right now,
that's enough

(mainly because there's not a whole lot we can do to fix it).

My friend has a beautiful heart.
Always willing to give and open up for new people.

I'm not like that,
but she is
and I love that.

We don't really fight much,
though we do have our disagreements
and there are times where we both get pretty steamed at one another,
but we work it out.

She's my shopping buddy.
My sunbathing,
                 pool floating,
                                ice cream slurping companion.

She's fragile too,
sometimes,
in different ways.
Her heart is always open
and always tender,
                        but some don't know just how tender.

It's tough to see her go through hard stuff,
cause I know her well enough to know how she feels.

And I love her.

She's the type of friend that's always willing.

If you haven't seen her in months she'll still be excited and glad to come if you invite her to dinner
or just to watch a movie.

And I love her for that.

We've had our fair share of adventures over the years.
Our goofy moments
and our serious ones
are all very precious memories for me.

She's had a hard time recently
and that's been tough.

But God's helping her,
He's holding her tight,
and He'll always do so.

I'm there for her too,
though I think she forgets sometimes,
but I am here.
And it's okay.
It'll all work out.

God will be victorious.
Trust in that.

I love you. :)

~kaPo

To the Home I Once Knew

Mon, 31 Dec 2007 06:52:57 GMT

O home that I had forgotten,
How could I not remember?

Vast, deep blue skies,
Kissed with soft white clouds.
I could touch those puffy waves of fluff
If only I were to stand tip toe,
Like a child reaching for the cookie jar.
The gentle sun peeks out
Through the fields of white
In glittering golden rays.
For a moment
Its bright face is smiling down
Then it ducks out of sight
Behind the nearest cloud.
An unending game of hide and seek.

O home that I had forgotten,
How could I not remember?

Lands of endless length
Stretch on as far as I can see.
On without a curve or bump,
On without hill or valley,
Without mountain and hardly a tree.
Some would call you empty,
But no.
Not to me.
What trees there are stand barren,
Shed for the winter's bitter, biting cold.

Oh home that I had forgotten,
How could I not remember?

The old gentle houses,
Some in dying condition
Now defy the odds
And strive on another day.
They are anciently old,
Or so they appear
On the outside,
Though I know not within.
They are dying old buildings
That some would call ugly,
But to me they bring a homey comfort
That I can't properly describe.

Oh home that I had forgotten,
How could I not remember?

Voices are different,
Like the houses they bring a strange comfort
To me.
Though I lived here quite briefly
And before I can rightly remember,
These voices sound somehow like me.
Familiar yet strange,
Comforting and sweet in a way.

Remembering this home that I had forgotten
Is like meeting an old friend again,
Someone I knew,
Once upon a time,
But we went seperate ways and forgot.
Now I see them again
And I'm happy,
Excited,
Thrilled,
Just glad to be alive
Because here this forgotten friend is again.

Oh home that I had forgotten,
I may never understand my attraction,
In truth you are windy, cold, and windy some more,
But you're pleasant enough to satisfy me.
Perhaps it's the frost that glitters each morning
On the miles and miles of wide open fields.
Perhaps it's the way the wind bustles along
And whispers in a scarce tree.
Perhaps it's the promise of snow every Christmas
and the flowers that pop up each spring.
But I like to think it's the vastness of blue
That's ever present and just out of reach above.

I may never understand this strange attraction
To such a beautiful, vastness of sky and land.
But I know I love it,
This home I'd forgotten.
It's cold and it's windy,
It's big and it's bare,
It's long and it's wide,
It's old and it's homey,
And it's comfortable enough to satisfy me.

~kaPo

Not my own work.

Fri, 21 Dec 2007 04:12:45 GMT

I read this on my dad's friend's site and thought it was really cool. So, this is Brant's and I'm just letting y'all see it too.

Happy Wednesday!

No, wait. Check that. You likely know that “Wednesday” really means “Woden’s Day” -- a nod to the Teutonic god.

I, for one, do not worship Woden. I'm not wont to worship Woden, and, well, wouldn't worship Woden. Perhaps you pursue a personal relationship with Woden. But maybe not. So forgive my insensitivity.

Granted, in this culture, the fourth day of the week is, most obviously, “Wednesday” – why, it’s as obvious as, say, December 25^th is Christmas – but we shouldn’t simply say things like that out loud because “it’s been that way” for centuries.

It’s time to recognize, and celebrate, our differences. Joining the celebration of religious expression is easy: Simply be offended by everyone else’s religious expression. Celebrate good times, come on.

What’s disturbing: Our own government continues to refer to this day as the Day of Woden, clearly embracing one religious view over others. Even our public schools embrace Woden, throughout school publications and practices. While I’m not steeped in Teutonic lore, I suspect, based on our monthly cafeteria calendars, that Woden remains the Teutonic Lord of pizza square, pear, brownie and choice of milk.

Not to mention these “Saturdays” we keep having! I try to be open-minded about this stuff, but c’mon: “Saturn” is just the Roman equivalent of the Greek god “Cronus”. What did Cronus do? Oh, boy.

“Cronus was the ruling Titan who came to power by castrating his Father Uranus. His wife was Rhea. There offspring were the first of the Olympians. To insure his safety Cronus ate each of the children as they were born…”

That's pretty much not cool. I don’t want to judge, I'd have to walk a mile in his shoes, etc., but -- I don't know, man -- this just seems out of line.

But he gets his own DAY for that. He castrates his dad, eats his kids…and then mall stores honor Cronus with “Saturday Sales Events”? I don’t even want to know what goes down at those things.

So yeah, stop saying “Saturday” around me. New rule: Even if the culture is steeped in it, and even if most even prefer it; even if it might seem to be reasonable to expect I could accommodate it, heck, even if it IS Saturday: don’t say it.

Times are changing. I remember my public high school (!) marching band, performing that song by Chicago: You know what day of the week, in the park, I think it was the fourth of that month named after a militaristic dead white guy.

I doubt the whole crowd at the Assumption, Illinois football game was into Cronus. Krokus, yes. Cronus, pretty much no. Couldn't we have found something else to play?

Let’s re-name everything, and pretend our culture appeared out of thin air, thirty seconds ago. Sure, it would be a massive, and massively strange, project. We could make a court case out of it, since the Constitution itself doesn’t afford different protections for expression of mostly-dead religions and expression of religions more widely practiced.

Or, we could just chill, and recognize that, for example, Saturday is Saturday, whether I worship Saturn or not.

And we could even say that December 25^th is “Christmas” whether you’re a Christian or not. Heck, maybe then, with one of the most painfully annoying melody lines ever written, we could even wish you a merry one.

I'm in...not of

Mon, 03 Dec 2007 16:13:13 GMT

I'm sorry this is so late. I guess I thought I'd put it up here but I hadn't. Anyway, this is actually from October 29th.

I've had a tough week. One of those that you get to the end of and you just want to give up and cry.

I value my dreams because God has talked to me through them a lot. I've even tried keeping a dream diary.

Last Sunday I was on my knees praying for a group of people that I felt really needed protection, every day but particularly last week. I felt God's peace but I knew I was going to be attacked a lot this week.

It came mainly through my dreams. I had nightmares every night. And not the kind that you can wake up from and everything's better because as soon as I went back to sleep a new one would start up.

It was tough.

But I had peace. When I'd wake up shaking and close to tears I'd feel God's peace calm me and I'd be able to face another dream.

It makes me sad that we Christians are so often blind to the fact that there are wars raging every day all over. We get so focused on the physical wars that we become vulnerable to attacks from the spiritual ones.

satan's always attacking, always lying, always trying to blind us to what's really happening.

Pay attention!

Not just to the physical but to the spiritual.

I have a friend who has been drawing a lot of attention from satan because of how much she's been standing up for the kids.

Us.

You.

Me.

Them.

The kids and teens and young adults of today are under a lot of oppression from him because we're not paying enough attention to see the lies he's spreading.

Pray for all those kids you know who are struggling with the lies and false joys of this world.

Pray for wisdom for them be able to see through the lies and for you to know how to be a guide in the confusion.

Pray for strength for you to stand firm against his attacks.

Pray for protection for their hearts, that they will desire more than what's just going to fade away tomorrow.

And do not conform to the ways of the world. Do not fall prey to it's lies.

Be in...not of.
John 19:15

Be a light in the lives of the broken world.
Even the smallest light will shine in the darkness.

~kaPo

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Tue, 09 Oct 2007 20:08:27 GMT

More pics

Yeah, I have no response to this photo. I mean, it kinda speaks for itself...drop dead gorgeous.

I like the shadowing in this pic. She's so cute:)

I'd wondered where this picture had gone! I've been looking for it! :D

~Kapo